The Beginning, The End and The Muddle
by csiAngel
Summary: CG. It started; it ended, but there was quite a muddle in the middle...
1. The Beginning

Title: The Beginning, The End and The Muddle  
>Author: csiAngel<br>Rating: T  
>Disclaimer: I do not own Lie to me*<br>Summary: It started; it ended, but there was quite a muddle in the middle…  
>AN: #Lietomelives! We won't let this show die. Thank you to all of those who have already posted today; all of those who still will; and everyone who continues to write Lie to me* fics long after TPTB decided it could be let go. Lie to me* lives!  
>AN2: As I had a shortage of time, and as the theme of today is "beginnings", here is the beginning of this fic. There'll be a short wait for the other chapters, but hopefully only a short wait.

… … …

This story has a beginning: There is a definite moment at which it started.

It also has an end: A time when everything that begins in the beginning is resolved and neatly tied up; when our characters move on into a distinctly new tale, to be told another time, perhaps.

But, as for the middle… Well, that's rather a muddle. Getting from A to B – or B to E, if you'd prefer – was not as straightforward as you might first think it would be. There weren't so much twists and turns, but there were confusions and misunderstandings; paths, wires and swords crossed; assumptions made; tales told.

Given the chosen careers of our favourite characters, they really should have seen straight through the muddle. But, love not only makes one do crazy things, but it also disrupts one's deception detection skills. Never a good combination.

So, as we embark on the retelling of this story, please remember to blame 'love'.

Now, if you're ready, we'll start at the beginning…

… … …

"Cal!"

He stopped in his tracks, cringing at having been spotted. Forcing a smile to his face he turned back and walked the short distance to her office.

"You called, love?" he quipped as he stepped across the threshold.

"You know that my office has a wall made of glass, right?" she smirked, looking up at him from the work she had previously seemed engrossed in.

"Oh, I know, love." He sat down opposite her, leaning back in the chair. "I like to use it to watch you work."

Rolling her eyes, she set her pen down on the desk and sat back in her own seat. "Is that what you've been doing today?"

"Today?" he echoed, pretending not to know what had prompted her question.

"Don't play innocent, Cal. You've wandered by here several times today, and never come in. What's going on?"

He shrugged it off. "You always seemed busy."

Her look conveyed that that had never stopped him before, she didn't need to speak the words.

"It wasn't important enough to interrupt you. Not every day you get chance to catch up on your paperwork," he smiled to keep her at ease.

Her narrowed eyes indicated she suspected that something more was going on but she simply responded with, "Well, I'm all caught up. So what did you need?"

"Oh, it's not even relevant –"

"Cal. You came here seconds ago. I'm not going to believe that what you wanted to say no longer applies."

He shrugged again. "It's nothing. Really."

She smiled sweetly. "Then you won't mind telling me."

He fell silent for a few seconds, eyes fixed on hers while he tried to summon the courage to say what he had been trying to all day.

"Should I be worried?" she asked him as the silence dragged on.

"Oh no. No, love, it's nothing to worry about. I just – … Would you have dinner with me tonight?"

A little surprised by the question, no doubt because he didn't normally ask quite so formally, she muttered, "Dinner?"

"If you don't have plans," he nodded.

"Cal – "

He leaned forward in his chair, offering her a reassuring smile. "Darling, it's nothing to worry about. I'd just prefer not to talk about it at work. Are you free for dinner?"

She still looked wary but she nodded as she answered him. "Yes I am, but – "

"Excellent!" he declared, jumping out of his seat. "I'll pick you up at seven."

"Cal," she stopped him again as he tried to make for the door.

"I'll explain everything tonight, love," he assured her. "I promise it's nothing to worry about."

"You couldn't just give me a clue?" she requested hopefully.

He laughed and watched her relax a little. "Patience is a virtue, love."

… … … … …

And so, that is how it all began: One little question, shrouded in mystery. A man with something to say; a woman intrigued as to what it could be. But, don't worry, she will find out in the end. And so will you. And, because the middle is such a muddle, we'll go to the end next…

… … …


	2. The End

The End

With a smile, the waitress took their menus and walked away from the table.

Cal glanced around the restaurant for a second, drumming his fingers on the table. But, when his gaze fell on Gillian, she was watching him expectantly. His fingers stopped and he smiled at her.

"So?" she prompted.

His smile widened. Straight to the point. "So," he echoed.

"What were you going to tell me?"

He looked down at the table as his smile twitched his lips in an attempt to grow even wider. Now that he'd had time to prepare for this, it didn't seem quite as scary. He was still nervous as hell though.

"Cal…" she prompted, her fingers brushing softly over his.

He lifted his eyes to hers and turned his hand, capturing her fingers with his. "Impatient, aren't you?"

"I think I've waited long enough."

He smiled, running his thumb over her knuckles. "I think you know what I'm going to say, love."

"I hope I do," she told him, a shy smile dancing on her lips, "But I'd prefer not to assume anything."

He laughed, once, in understanding of - and agreement with – that comment. They shared an amused smile, Gillian's cheeks flushing with a hint of embarrassment.

"I suppose the best way to stop you from jumping to conclusions is for me to use my words."

Her eyes widened a little and it surprised him to see how shocked she was that he could quote her own words back at her. She must have thought he paid no attention to her. He supposed he was to blame for that. There was a lot he really should have said to her earlier.

He caressed her hand again, pondering, for a moment, the best way to tell her everything now. No amount of preparation had actually provided him with the best words to choose. No, this wasn't scary, but it was one of the most important things he had ever done: He had to get it right. And none of the little speeches he had come up with earlier seemed perfect. And he wanted perfect. She deserved perfect.

When her fingers moved within his hold, he realised he had been sitting gazing at their joined hands. Shifting his eyes back to hers, he found her smiling patiently.

"Any words will do," she told him.

"I'd like them to be the right ones."

"Anything is better than nothing," she smirked, a sparkle in her eyes assuring him that she meant that remark to be taken playfully. But the strength of the truth behind that statement didn't go unnoticed. If he had just said anything before now, they could have avoided a lot of mess.

"I'm sorry I didn't do this sooner."

Gillian shrugged one shoulder. "Don't be… But be sorry you're still making me wait."

With a short laugh, he shuffled his chair closer to hers, for more privacy.

As he took hold of her hand again, he looked up to immediately find her eyes. "You know, you never said anything either."

"True," she nodded.

And he heard what she wasn't saying. "But I always knew," he stated. She didn't need to speak for him to know he had it spot on. "I'm sorry, darling."

"Cal…"

"I know, I know. Just be sorry I'm still making you wait."

"You asked me to dinner," she reminded him.

"Yes I did."

"Why?"

He brought his free hand to join the other in holding hers and spoke softly. "I was tired of waiting."

This prompted a laugh from Gillian: A beautiful sound.

"I see the irony," Cal added.

"You must have thought about what you were going to say."

"Oh I did… But none of it seems adequate."

"Just say the first thing that comes to mind."

His responding look - wicked smile - said everything he didn't.

"Cal," she warned.

"You are beautiful."

She lowered her eyes, shyly, a blush tinging her cheeks. "Cal."

"That's often on the tip of my mind, love. You are… And I'm in love with you."

Her eyes darted back up to his.

"Completely, totally in love with you."

Her lips parted, curving into a smile.

"That's why I asked you to dinner. I want you to know that I have noticed your loyalty; your devotion; your unwavering determination to keep me alive. I have noticed, darling, that you're in love with me. And I'm sorry I've never acknowledged all of that before. I told myself I didn't deserve you and, evidently, set out to prove it."

"Cal..."

He smiled in request for permission to continue while he was on a roll, and she granted it.

"I'm still convinced that I don't deserve you, but you do deserve to know that I am grateful for everything you've done; for standing by me when I was a complete bastard. And I know it's time I told you that. I truly am sorry that I never told you earlier, Gill."

She took a breath to speak but Cal quickly added, "I'm not expecting anything. I just want you to know that - despite too much evidence to the contrary - you matter to me, love. You matter. And, regardless of what happens next, you will never doubt that again. I promise."

Gillian was smiling, which was a good sign. But she was silent, which always made him nervous.

After a minute or so, she quietly asked, "Can I speak now?"

Cal laughed, with relief more than amusement. "Please do."

She tightened her hold on his hand and leaned a little closer. "You probably don't deserve me," she agreed, "But, as you know, I firmly believe in second chances - and third, fourth, fifth... ninety-eighth chances," she grinned adorably. "And, as you also know, I love you..."

He couldn't help but grin widely back at her.

"This is our chance, Cal. I'm willing to take it. Are you?"

"I don't deser-"

She cut off his self-deprecation with a sudden kiss. Her lips pressed onto his softly yet, somehow, with an assertiveness that brooked no argument. Surprised it was happening now, happening here, happening at all, it took Cal a second to respond but as soon as he did he felt her relax. Their lips pulsed together for one delightful moment, then Gillian dropped back with a barely perceptible sigh.

When Cal's eyes fluttered open she was smiling at him, waiting patiently.

"Are you willing to take it?" she asked again, her voice so soft yet all that mattered amongst the other sounds in the room.

"I am if you are," he told her in equally reverent tones.

The radiant smile he saw now was something he had never seen before, in all their years together - and he had always found her smile to be gorgeous.

"I am," she assured him, with absolutely no room for doubt as her entire being positively sparkled with delight.

He took his forehead to rest against hers, threading a hand into her hair, stroking his thumb across her jawline. "I really don't deserve you," he murmured, in awe now rather than self-flagellation.

"I beg to differ," Gillian whispered before kissing him once more. "You got there in the end."

... ... ...

So there we have it: The end of this tale; the beginning of the next instalment in our favourite characters' story. But as I said before we began, all was not as simple as it seems in getting here.

This was not the dinner to which an invitation was extended in The Beginning. Elements of their conversation make reference to The Muddle. In fact, we have joined them here almost two weeks after that initial invitation. And they almost didn't make it.

Feeling assured now that we need not worry, we'll go next to the middle of the tale. To the Muddle that ensued because of 'love'. We must not forget we agreed to blame 'love'...

... ... ...


	3. The Muddle

The Muddle

Gillian tried – she really tried – to focus on her work after Cal had left her office. When she realised that she had read two pages of one of Loker's reports and had no idea what it was about, she decided to give in to the desire to go in search of further information about dinner. For all Cal had insisted that there was nothing to worry about, she couldn't shake the feeling that he had something big to tell her. And, given that he seemed intent on telling her in a public place, she sensed that it wasn't going to be good.

He wasn't in his office when she got there and she wouldn't have put it past him to have gone into hiding so she couldn't question him further. She was about to leave to check the rest of the office when she heard his voice from his study. Moving towards the half-open door, she stopped when she heard him say, "I'm going to tell her tonight… Yes. Tonight."

Frowning, she stepped a little closer to the door, careful to stay out of sight.

"Well, I don't know how she's going to react. But I think it's about time I told her."

Her frown deepened and she tried, in vain, to figure out who he was speaking to.

"Okay… But don't leave it too late, I want to go home and change before dinner… Because I want to look nice."

A little thrill trembled through her upon hearing that. Maybe it wasn't going to be so bad, after all…

"No, I don't think she is likely to throw food over me!... Yeah, maybe I should wait until there is no food on the table."

… Or maybe it would be.

"Okay, darling. See you later."

She managed to make it to the doorway and appear to be just entering the office at the time he left the study.

"Cal, have you -" She thought that question added to her cover, along with stopping speaking when she 'realised' that Cal wasn't at his desk. "There you are," she smiled, 'noticing' him. "Have you got a copy of Loker's report on the Woodman case? Mine seems to have a page missing." She congratulated herself on her quick thinking.

He was looking at her strangely and, for a moment, she worried that he had detected her deception. She never had been particularly good at lying to him about little things. Luckily, she didn't try to do it often. But then Cal snapped out of it and moved towards his desk.

"Yeah, it's here somewhere, love. I was dozing off to it earlier."

She reprimanded him for that with a roll of her eyes that he probably didn't see as he rooted through the files on his desk.

"Here you go." He presented it to her with a flourish.

"Thank you."

He was watching her again and she squirmed under his gaze. "Are you okay?" she asked him.

He seemed to shake himself free of his thoughts again, then – quite convincingly – assured her, "Yeah, I'm fine, darling."

"Cal, the thing you want to talk to me about -"

"It's nothing to worry about, love."

"You could just tell me now. Put my mind at ease."

"I don't want to talk about it at the office. Don't worry. And dinner will be here before you know it."

She narrowed her eyes at him to let him know she wasn't pleased with all his mystery. "It'd better be worth all of this suspense."

He laughed at that, briefly, then a serious – almost doubtful – expression settled on his face as he said, "Let's hope so."

"Cal…"

"Stop fretting, love," he said with what appeared to be a forced smile. "Take Loker's sleep-aid of a report; catch up on your paperwork and we'll have dinner later."

She got the distinct impression that he was trying to get rid of her; verbally escorting her out of his office. She suspected he wanted to physically escort her out but knew that would only increase her intrigue.

Accepting that she wasn't going to get anything else out of him, she agreed to his suggestions and left as desired.

Given that it was the only real information she had, she replayed the one side of the telephone conversation that she had overheard, over and over again for the next few hours.

Until she bumped into the next piece of the puzzle in the corridor later that afternoon.

… … …

Gillian rounded the corner and froze. While she hated the jealousy that flared within her whenever she saw Cal with Sharon Wallowski, she had no control over it. She did, however, manage to cover up her immediate reaction and she forced her feet to move again. She also managed a smile.

"Gillian," Wallowski greeted her, quite politely.

"Detective," Gillian responded, glancing questioningly at Cal. "I didn't realise we were involved in one of your cases."

"I just came by for some advice," Wallowski explained, "I'm on my way out."

Gillian nodded and looked again at Cal. He looked more uncomfortable than he usually did when the two women were in the same room.

"It was pretty straight forward," Cal added.

"I see."

Gillian was about to reprimand herself for the hostility she was feeling – and probably showing – when her mind froze. Then rewound: To the phone call in Cal's study.

_"Don't leave it too late… See you later."_

He had been speaking to Wallowski. About their dinner. About whatever secret he wished to discuss with her. Evidently, it was only a secret from Gillian.

She glanced between the two people in front of her. They both looked incredibly uncomfortable now and, as full realisation hit, she began to share that sensation.

This was what he wanted to tell her. He was seeing Wallowski and he thought it was about time he told Gillian. Her stomach clenched; her legs and feet itched to run and she prayed that none of that was showing on her face. Not that Cal or Wallowski would have noticed as they were both looking uneasily at each other.

"Well, I still have some paperwork to do," Gillian forced out, saving them all – though helping the other two was hardly a priority for her right then; more an unfortunate by-product of getting herself out of there. "Detective, no doubt I'll see you around."

Wallowski nodded, "And, please, call me Sharon."

Gillian knew she would hate doing that every single time she had to. And it was dawning on her just how often she might have to see 'Sharon' now that Cal was dating her.

It wasn't like Cal to date. Sex, yes. Dating, so very rarely. This must be serious if he wanted to tell Gillian. That didn't make her feel any better. She bid farewell to Cal and turned on her heel, heading for her office. She almost collided with Emily as the young girl came out of the break room.

"Sorry Em," she apologised, smiling genuinely for the first time in several minutes.

"It's okay, Gill. Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Just busy… I didn't know you were here."

"I was in the area, so I thought I'd grab a ride home with Dad."

Gillian felt a twitch of pain at mention of Cal. "Beats the bus," she commented.

"Definitely… Gill, are you sure you're okay?" Emily frowned at her, obviously concerned.

"Sorry, Emily. I just have a lot of work to do."

"Before dinner," Emily concluded for her.

"Yes. Are you joining us?" For that blissful moment she was filled with hope. Maybe if Emily was there as well she could keep the conversation away from Cal's choice of topic.

"Oh no. Just you and Dad."

"You could join us." Gillian wasn't convinced she would stop short of pleading.

Emily smiled. "I already have plans."

Gillian noted that there was a sparkle to Emily's eyes and excitement in her grin. She assumed that she must have a date that she was eagerly anticipating. Had she not been so preoccupied with fear of how dinner with Cal was going to go, she might have enquired further. As it was, though, she didn't pry.

"I'll let you get back to work," Emily said next. "I know Dad won't let you live it down if you're late for dinner."

Gillian forced a laugh. "No. No, he wouldn't."

Emily stepped forward and wrapped her arms around a rather surprised Gillian – who wouldn't have been so shocked if she had not been so distracted.

"Have a great time tonight," Emily said to her as she held her tightly.

When the young woman dropped back, Gillian responded, "You too. Have fun."

Emily grinned at her, widely, again, then turned away and practically bounced down the corridor.

For a brief moment, pleasure at seeing Emily so happy broke through Gillian's tension. She smiled, wistfully, remembering what it was like to be young and in love.

That thought soon brought reality back with a bang: Being older and in love was so much more complicated.

… … …

Dressing for a dinner you really didn't want to attend was even more difficult than dressing for a dinner with someone you really wanted to impress. Eventually, Gillian had decided on a little blue number – because it was one of her favourites and she needed to draw confidence from wherever she could.

By the time Cal arrived to pick her up she had already downed one glass of wine – as an additional source of courage – and had come up with a plan. She had formulated an announcement of her own and she would get it in first. That way she wouldn't look quite so lonely and pathetic when Cal was gushing about his relationship. It would, once more, test her ability to lie to him, but she hoped that his delirium at telling her about Wallowski would affect his expression reading skills.

She took two deep breaths before opening the door, letting each one out very slowly to steady herself. She had considered cancelling, using an entirely different lie about a sudden illness, but found that she couldn't bring herself to do that to him. She kicked herself once more for caring so much, grabbed her purse, and swung open her front door.

Cal began to smile but then his eyes slipped from her face, taking in her dress, all the way to where it fell just above her knees. He even gave her shoes an appreciative once over.

Okay, so that had been the other reason she had chosen that dress. Let him see what he had missed out on. If only she felt as confident as that sounded.

"You look… bloody gorgeous," he enthused when he returned his eyes to hers.

Despite her anxiety that did make her laugh. "Thank you… You look pretty nice yourself." He really did. He had obviously made an effort. If she didn't know what the purpose of their dinner was then she could have mistaken this for a date. Instead it just crushed her more to know that it wasn't. She hoped she didn't get the urge to throw food at him: It would certainly spoil his smart suit.

"Wouldn't want you to be ashamed to be seen in public with me," he responded.

"That ship has sailed" she quipped in return.

"You're lucky I'm still distracted by that dress."

It was a strange mixture of exhilaration and agony that swept through her at his words and the way he was looking at her. Trying to keep a neutral expression on her face, she stepped out of the house before she lost all her nerve.

Cal didn't step backwards though, so she ended up closer than she had anticipated. Even when she was in his personal space, eyes locked on his, he didn't move.

"Cal…" she prompted, cursing herself for the whisper it came out as.

"Mm?"

For a split second she was tempted to lean forward and kiss him. And for a further split second she entertained the thought that he looked like he would reciprocate. In the third split second she came to her senses. She wouldn't do that to Wallowski. She wouldn't be that woman.

It irked her that Cal would be so blatantly distracted by her given what he was about to tell her.

"Could you give me some space to lock the door, please?" she asked him, hearing a little of her annoyance in her tone.

Cal took in their proximity as if he hadn't previously noticed it, then with a smirk, he apologised, "Oh, of course, sorry, darling."

But he didn't look the least bit contrite as he took two steps backwards.

Gillian found herself hoping he would trip up.

… … …

They didn't speak on their journey to the restaurant. Gillian was oscillating between imagining a world where she couldn't care less about Wallowski, and absolute fury at Cal for being so flirtatious under the circumstances. She couldn't trust herself to speak. She had no idea what she might say.

Cal didn't seem to mind and made no attempt at conversation. Nor did he seem to be waiting for her to speak.

The next words spoken were when she thanked him for jogging round to open her door. She hoped he was going to stop with the chivalry. It was only making this more difficult.

It continued, though, when he pulled out her chair for her. She tried not to narrow her eyes at him as she sat in it.

They talked about nothing of consequence while they perused the menu, and it felt almost normal. Once their order was placed, though, she felt a shift in the air and sensed that Cal was about to broach the dreaded subject. And so, she implemented her plan.

He took a breath to speak but she swept in there first.

"I'm glad you asked me to dinner," she began.

"I'm glad you agreed to come," he responded.

"There is actually something I've been wanting to speak to you about."

"Oh, well, then, you go first, love."

"Are you sure?" His chivalry here would work to her advantage.

"Of course."

The waiter brought their drinks before she had built up the courage to start on her deception. Taking a sip of her wine gave her a few extra seconds.

"Are you all right, darling?" Cal asked at her hesitance.

"Yes, I'm just -… You're going to wonder why I didn't tell you this sooner, and… I'm not sure I have a good explanation for that. It just - … I think I'm ready to tell you now."

"I see now how scary my mysterious dinner invitation was," Cal remarked with a nervous laugh.

She tried to smile reassuringly and, for a moment, she considered aborting the plan; facing up to his news like the sensible, mature woman that she was supposed to be. But then she thought again about what his news was and she couldn't bring herself to face that humiliation. This was self-preservation.

"Sorry… I want to tell you… I think it's time that I told you that I -… I've been seeing someone for a couple of months. His name is Scott… He works across the street from our office."

She thought she glimpsed disappointment on Cal's features but it quickly disappeared behind an unbreachable wall. Her heart was pounding – with lying; with thinking she might be found out; with fear that she had hurt him.

"I see," Cal murmured. "Does he deserve you?"

That question made her smile, and tripled her guilt. "He does," she answered, softly, vaguely aware that her brain was trying to tell her she would regret this. She did her best to ignore the warning. The alternative was too unbearable.

"Are you intentionally not giving me his surname so I don't run a background check?" Cal asked her with a tight smile.

"I have learned from my past mistakes."

"In your defence, you didn't give me Burns' name."

"That's true."

"So you've been seeing him for a couple of months?"

"Yes." She couldn't tell if the questioning was because he didn't believe her, or if he was just taking an interest.

"Must be getting serious if you wanted to tell me?"

That remark made her stomach churn, applying it, as she did, to his relationship with Wallowski.

"I didn't like keeping a secret from you."

He nodded. He squirmed a little in his seat. Then he nodded again. "Well, I'm glad you told me."

"So am I." Though she didn't feel relieved at all. In fact, she felt sick. While the tale should stop him from pitying her after he made his announcement, she still knew that it was not true. Self-pity would still find her. She hadn't really thought this through.

"Actually, the reason I asked you to dinner was to tell you…"

She held her breath, focused on controlling her facial expressions.

"… I … I knew about you and Scott."

She had no control whatsoever over her shock. "What?"

"I saw you together. A couple of times. I've actually already run a background check on him."

"You've -" She couldn't seem to form a sentence. Why was _he_ lying to _her_?

"Sorry, love. But you know how protective I am… But I… I thought I should tell you that I know. In case you were struggling with telling me."

"Cal -" Except she couldn't call him on the lie because then she would have to admit that she had made the whole thing up. And that would lead to a whole lot of questions she had not allowed herself to even consider. "… That's why you asked me to dinner?"

"I thought it might soften the blow," he smiled, sheepishly.

"That's what you wanted to tell me?"

He nodded. "For what it's worth, I'm glad that you told me of your own accord."

She looked but she couldn't read anything in his face to explain why he had decided to lie rather than tell her his news. She also hadn't heard any tells in his voice.

She had not been prepared for this.

"Erm… Yeah… So am I," she managed to mutter.

"Does he make you happy, darling?"

If she hadn't known about him and Wallowski then she might have thought that she heard regret in that question. One more time she reminded herself that this plan was crazy. But, nevertheless, she answered him, "Yes, he does."

Their food arrived before Cal responded, providing a welcome distraction. Gillian quickly brought up Emily, successfully providing a more comfortable topic of conversation.

"So, who is she out with tonight?" she asked, spearing a piece of pasta, determined to eat her dinner despite the knots in her stomach.

"She's gone to a movie with the girls," he answered.

"Fun," Gillian remarked. She thought better of telling Cal that she had thought Emily was on a date. If Gillian had surmised incorrectly, Emily didn't deserve the interrogation that would ensue.

"How is she finding college?"

That topic; Zoe; Loker and Torres, and a debate about British television versus American television, kept the evening flowing without any further mention of 'Scott'. Talk of how beautiful the night sky was kept her lies out of the journey home.

She insisted that Cal didn't need to walk her to her door and he eventually agreed, although she felt his eyes on her until she had stepped inside.

Once safely alone, she collapsed against the back of the door, her mind replaying every second of the evening. What on Earth had she been thinking? And why on Earth had Cal felt the need to lie as well? She reasoned that she would probably never find out. There was no way to ask without revealing her lie. So it was all her own fault that this would probably drive her insane.

She pushed away from the door and headed for the stairs. If she didn't go straight to bed, she might drink the rest of the wine that she had opened earlier.

… … …

Cal, on the other hand, had no such qualms about going straight for the alcohol. Emily found him ten minutes after he had got home, seated on the sofa, cradling an empty glass in his hand.

"What happened?" she asked as she approached him, slowly.

"She didn't throw food at me," he replied, sardonically.

Emily sat down beside him and he forced a smile for her benefit.

"Did you tell her?"

He shook his head. "No, love. Wasn't the right time."

"This morning you thought it was."

"This morning I didn't know she's been seeing someone."

"What?"

From the contrition on Emily's face after that outburst, Cal could tell she hadn't intended to release her surprise.

"She said she had something to tell me, too. I was a gentleman and let her go first."

"What a time for you to decide to be a gentleman," Emily teased, and he appreciated her attempt at lifting his mood. "You're sure she's seeing someone?"

"She told me."

"You didn't misunderstand?"

"It was quite clear."

Emily sighed and shuffled closer to her Dad. "I'm sorry, Dad."

She laid her head on his shoulder, and he moved to wrap an arm around her.

"I didn't see this coming at all, love," he commented, sadly.

"Neither did I."

"I obviously waited too long."

"Maybe it won't last."

He hugged Emily to him, grateful for her optimism because he couldn't find any of his own.

… … …

For the next week, in spite of the pain it caused him, Cal tried to catch a glimpse of Scott. His research into the companies across the street had not provided him with a surname, so his background check was on hold. He would have to use his own judgement and observation skills to determine whether or not this guy was good enough for Gillian.

Of course, following Gillian everywhere she went was out of the question – contrary to popular belief, he did know where to draw the line – so he had yet to be successful at seeing her with her new man. In fact, if he had taken the time to think about it, he may have suspected that something was off with that relationship, because she never seemed to spend any time with Scott. As it was, though, Cal was preoccupied by jealousy, so he didn't pick up on the deceipt in Gillian's story.

He did notice that Gillian seemed to be avoiding him. She was subtle about it. She still spoke with him about work; she still attended their meetings, but she never hung around for longer than she needed to. He understood. He suspected that she didn't want to give him an opportunity to interrogate her about Scott. He couldn't blame her. He could understand why she would feel uncomfortable around him. But he couldn't spend the rest of that relationship seeing as little of Gillian as he did now. It was with great reluctance that he admitted to himself that the only solution was for him to show Gillian that he had accepted Scott.

It took him a further two days to build up the courage to do that.

… … …

Gillian looked up at the sound of a gentle tap on her office door. Cal was leaning against the doorframe, a small smile on his face. It was false, though, she could tell and her stomach churned as she deduced that this conversation was not going to be work-related.

Cal walked further into the room and paced in front of her desk a couple of times before she watched him force himself to stop. She saved the report she had been working on and sat back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest for protection.

Cal stood still, opposite her, and his face settled in a serious expression. She braced herself to be challenged on her lies.

"Gill…"

"Cal -"

"No, please, let me… Gill, I know why you've been avoiding me since dinner -"

"I ha-"

"You have, Gillian. And I understand. I wouldn't trust me, either… So, I want to assure you that I'm not going to pry; I'm not going to interrogate you about Scott. And to prove that I am happy for you, let's have dinner."

Gillian was still catching up, knocked off kilter by the fact that he wasn't calling her on her deception. "Dinner?" she echoed.

"You, me and Scott. Let me prove to you that I'll be good this time."

How the hell was she going to get out of this?

"Well - "

"Please Gill. I know I was insensitive and a complete bastard about Burns. Let me make it up to you. Dinner on Friday?"

She found herself replying, "Scott's out of town on business," before she knew what she was going to say. She felt sure she had been ready to tell him the truth.

"Oh… Well, when he gets back?"

"Cal -"

"Please?"

She had a firm understanding now of why honesty is the best policy.

"Okay."

Cal smiled but she was sure it was another fake one. "Excellent… I'll let you get back to work."

Gillian stopped him before he reached the door. Eventually she was going to have to tell him the truth – or at least end her 'relationship' with Scott. Before she could do that, she needed to take the same step that he had regarding acceptance.

"Cal…"

He turned to face her.

"You should bring Sharon." It made her sad to say it, but she managed it.

"Sharon?"

Gillian stood and moved towards him while she explained. "Cal, I know about you and Sharon. And I know I've been… hostile towards her in the past but… She's important to you, so let me prove to you that I can be nice to her." She forced a smile this time. "Bring her to dinner."

Of course she knew that it would just be the three of them at that dinner and the thought of that made her want to curl up in bed with the flu. But she owed him more than that. Particularly as she was lying to him left, right and centre.

"You want me to bring Sharon to dinner?" Cal seemed totally confused by the idea and Gillian really wished that he had understood the first time so they wouldn't have had to dwell on this for so long.

"Yes. I'd like to get to know her. That doesn't happen when we're working."

"You want to get to know her?"

Gillian nodded, wondering what he was finding so difficult to comprehend.

"Because I'm dating her?"

"Yes, Cal. I don't want you to feel anxious whenever she and I are in the same room. Let me assure you that we can get along."

"You don't have to -"

"I want to, Cal. Please?"

He hesitated a moment longer then finally, without requiring any further pleading on her part, he agreed.

"Excellent."

"Let me know when Scott is back in town."

"I will do."

This time she let Cal leave. And she returned to her chair, dropping her arms to her desk and her head into her hands.

… … …

"She thinks you're dating Wallowski?" Emily questioned her Dad in disbelief.

He was pacing in front of her, unable to understand it all himself.

"That's what I said."

"Why does she think that?"

"I don't know."

"What did you say?"

"To make her think that or after she told me she thinks that?"

"Either. Both!"

"I don't think I said anything that would make her think that."

"And after she told you?"

"I... Well -"

"You didn't set her straight?"

"I liked the idea."

"Of dating Wallowski?" Emily looked ready to hit him.

"No. Yes… No. Of dating someone."

"Because Gillian is."

Cal stopped moving for the first time since he had arrived home.

"I should have set her straight."

Emily stood up from the sofa and approached Cal. Placing an arm across his shoulders she gently told him, "I understand why you didn't."

"But now she thinks I'm dating Wallowski."

"She already thought that."

"That doesn't really help, Em."

"No."

"I'll have to tell her the truth before dinner."

"How will you explain not telling her right away?"

"I'll tell her we broke up."

"What's one more lie?"

"It just seemed like a much better situation for me to have someone with me at dinner. And she took me by surprise. I'll tell her the truth tomorrow."

"The whole truth?" Emily asked, excited that he was finally going to tell Gillian of his love.

"No, love. Just the part about not dating Wallowski."

"Dad," she whined.

"She is seeing Scott, Em. It wouldn't be fair for me to say anything else."

"I know. I know… But I don't like it."

"Neither do I, darling."

"It won't last."

"Thanks for trying to comfort me."

"Want some ice cream?"

"I'm not a girl!... But, yeah."

… … …

Cal waited until the work day was over and most of the staff had gone home before attempting to broach the subject. Gillian was putting on her coat by the time he had persuaded himself to go to her office.

"Oh, you're heading out?"

"I was going to stop by your office before I left."

He cringed, inwardly, hearing her defend herself. Maybe if he hadn't accused her of avoiding him she wouldn't feel the need to do that.

"I know you would, darling," he smiled, reassuringly.

"Did you need something before I go?"

He picked up a book from the corner of her desk, flicked through the pages, then replaced it where he had found it.

She looked at him with concern. "Cal?"

"I just wanted to… I think there may have been a misunderstanding and I was so surprised by it that I didn't point it out."

"A misunderstanding? With the Tomlins case?"

"No… Gill, I'm not dating Wallowski."

Gillian's face went blank. "You're not?"

"No. And I never was. I know I should have told you that yesterday but it took me a while to process what had happened."

"You've never been dating Wallowski?"

Cal shook his head. "Never."

"Then… What did you want to tell me at dinner?" Gillian asked next, very quietly and almost fearfully.

Cal struggled to accept that he had to lie again but, as he had told Emily, the alternative wouldn't be fair. "I told you at dinner what I wanted to tell you at dinner."

"That you knew about Scott?"

"Yeah."

"That's not what you wanted to tell me."

Cal's heart sped up with panic that she was on to him. "What -"

"Cal, there is no Scott."

His mouth snapped shut.

"I made him up."

His mind was racing at speeds to match his heart now. "What?"

"I'm sorry…" She looked closer to devastated. "I thought you were going to tell me you were dating Wallowski and I -"

"Why would you think that?"

"You were being all mysterious and then I heard you on the phone and -"

"On the phone?"

"To Wallowski."

"When?"

"The day we went to dinner. You were telling her that it was about time you told me and -"

"I was talking to Emily."

"Emily? But you said 'see you later' and then Wallowski was here -"

"So was Em."

"But…" Gillian trailed off, looking somewhere beyond his right shoulder before her head dropped to her chest. "So was Em," she echoed.

"Gill -"

"But you and Wallowski looked -… You looked nervous."

"I'm always nervous when you see me with her. I know you don't approve. But there was an innocent man in court and I couldn't say no."

"She looked nervous," she said next, and that description could also have been applied to herself right then.

"She knows you don't like her."

"I don't know why she'd think that," Gillian muttered as she turned her back on Cal and ran her hands over her face.

The pause gave Cal chance to realise that he had chosen the wrong line of questioning after Gillian's admission. He took a step towards her, feeling nervous now for a completely different reason. She had made up a boyfriend because she thought he was dating someone. That sounded very familiar. And he knew what his reasoning had been.

"Gill… Why did you create Scott?"

He saw her back tense; her arms freeze. Then he watched her take a deep breath. She turned round slowly, tilted her head sheepishly. "Why didn't you set me straight about Wallowski?"

Their gazes held across the space, saying everything they weren't speaking aloud.

"Well this is quite a mess," Cal observed.

Gillian shrugged, adorably. "A slight muddle."

"You started it!"

"You wouldn't tell me why you asked me to dinner."

"I didn't expect that you would just make something up."

"It was based on evidence."

"Loosely."

They shared slow smiles. Cal's heart was pounding with anticipation now.

"Shall we start again?" he suggested.

"Why did you ask me to dinner?"

"I'd rather not discuss it at work."

"Deja-vu."

He took a step towards her. "Have dinner with me now."

"Why?"

"So you don't have time to jump to any conclusions."

"Why won't you just tell me now?"

"Because most of our conversations take place here, darling… This one deserves a more romantic setting."

Gillian's lips curved into a radiant smile and he was sorely tempted to forget what he had just said.

"You know I'm jumping to conclusions now."

"Hopefully closer to the truth than your last assumptions."

"There's one way to find out."

"Dinner."

He held out his hand to her and he watched her fight a grin as she took it.

"Dinner."

… … …

Well, what a muddle that was in the middle. Skewed abilities; clouded perceptions; sensible adults turned into confused, teenagers again. Caused by jealousy, fear and insecurities. But, above all, caused by love. That powerful mind control.

You can see why we placed the blame for the lies firmly on love.

Thank goodness the truth came out in the end.

… … …


End file.
